Whirlwind
by JuicyWizard
Summary: Velphyn wishes to take a seat as a human king's advisor, but it is taken by one Sir William at the last moment. Now, robbed of his chance to get justice, he makes justice revenge.


Velphyn strolled through the streets, head and shoulders up in the golden area between arrogant and frightened. He wore only loose black trousers tied off at the knees, and grimy foot- and hand-wraps that might have once been white. His head was shaved and smoothed with magic, leaving his lightly pointed ears exposed. While most of the people in this town carried at least a dagger, Velphyn held his walking stick and nothing more. Apparently, this meant to the burglar rabble that he was easy prey.

Four men ran from a side alley, two holding daggers, one with a hammer, and one with a club. Velphyn stopped dead in his tracks, turned his feet sideways, and raised his walking staff forward. All four attacked at once, but Velphyn wouldn't let them continue. He spun the staff, rapping all four men on their knuckles. Three of them dropped their weapons, but the one with the hammer took the pain and attacked Velphyn. He thought he was inside the staff's range, but he was misled. While he was inside the _staff'_ s range, he wasn't inside Velphyn's range. Nobody ever was. His foot came up in a flash, and the robber fell to his back with one more broken tooth. The other three leaned down to recover their weapons, but Velphyn spun, swung and jumped, cracking their heads into the ground one at a time.

None of them got up. Velphyn ran his hand over his smooth head, spun his staff, and continued on his way. He was here, in Centerfort, for the annual combat tournament, held by one of the humans' kings. It was to the death more often than not, but there was _always_ a warning beforehand. If anyone was unwilling to risk their lives, they didn't join. If they died in the ring, it was their own fault. Velphyn was confident in his abilities, and was willing to risk life and limb to prove it. Furthermore, the winner of the tournament was given their choice between a village to rule and a position on the king's Advisory Council. Velphyn needed that position as an Advisor, in order to convince this human ruler to better support the demihuman races, such as elves, gnomes, halflings, and the like.

He knew that he needed to gain this because the prejudice against his mother's people, the elves, had gotten her and Velphyn's human father killed the moment the people of power in his town had learned of their relationship and child. Velphyn, having been orphaned, was left to find his own way in the world from age four. He was taken in by the Order of the Half-Monks, who were called so for three reasons. One, they were all half-breeds. Two, they believed in moderated violence, unlike most monk's complete omission. And lastly, they focused not on one deity, but included whichever their members chose. In this order, Velphyn learned to use hand, foot, and staff as a master, in addition to a magic ability of his choice. He'd chosen to take control of the winds and the air, learning to move it at will.

As such, he wished to represent the Half-Monks in the Advisor's chair, and get justice. He didn't wish to harm the king; he was actually quite lazy. The previous system of Advisors had been the reason for his parents' deaths. If anyone was to die it would be the men remaining from that group.

Velphyn neared the inner gate within a dense group of heavily armed men. The gate was closed, and the guardsman inside was counting down. As Velphyn pushed through the crowd, the guard looked at a sun clock and said, "Three minutes." Behind him, one last tent was being erected, and railings nailed onto some tiered wooden benches for the audience. Said audience was filing in from a larger, more central gate, and they would all be seated before the competitors were allowed inside. At two minutes to go, the guard ran off. Soon he appeared atop the walls and shouted down to the competitors. Shushes and murmurs rippled through them, then they became silent.

"Competitors! The rules are simple. First and foremost, by entering this arena you are taking your life into your hands. We are not responsible for the injuries or deaths. There will be five competitions. First will be the joust. I hope you have all put steeds in the stable, and if not you will be at a disadvantage." Velphyn didn't have a steed, but he wasn't worried. "Next up will be the battle of strength, wherein you will be relieved of your weapons and armor, and fight one opponent until death, yield, or time. Third is the competition of speed. The remaining from the first two will be placed on a course, which they have to get through, also unarmed and unarmored, before their opponents. When all but ten have crossed the finish line, the competition will be over and the non-finishers dismissed. For the next-to-last competition, your weapons and armor will be returned to you, and you will be pitted against a single opponent who has proven him- or herself equally as worthy. Once again, only half will get through. Finally, the last half of you will be sent on a no-rules battle until death or yield, at which point the winner will be apparent. Are you all prepared?"

The competitors shouted, jeered, and pounded their equipment, and the audience replied with a thunderous cheer that could probably be heard for miles outside the city. Now, the guardsman was given a large horn, and he blew it. The gates opened, and the competitors marched in, equipment thundering. Velphyn, as soon as he was inside the gate, moved off to the side and examined the five arenas. The first was a long dirt rectangle with a fence down the middle. The second was the arena for the both the second and the fourth tournament, which was a line of five circles of wood for the battles. The next, arranged for the third competition, was quite complex. There were large wooden platforms, mud pits with dangling spears, pools of water with poles over them, ropes, and wheels set onto stands at either end. Finally, for the fifth and last event, there was a very large fenced-in square of wood.

The competitors filed into their previously-erected tents, put up by representatives or spouses. Velphyn had no tent, not even a cloth and some sticks. He pounded his staff into the ground with his palm, then jumped. He turned, placed his right foot on his left knee, and exploited the wind to push him up and place his foot carefully on the tip of the staff. Now, using the winds to keep him upright and perfectly still, he placed his fist in his palm and closed his eyes.

"Oy!"

Velphyn opened his eyes. In front of him was an armored man, a knight by the look of him.

"What're you doing, sleeping on the job?" The man was drunk.

"Please, back away. You're blocking my wind." Already Velphyn could feel himself tipping slowly forward.

"Yer tellin' me to back away? You'd like fisticuffs, eh?"

Velphyn rolled his eyes and sighed, then tipped into a flip and landed in his fighting stance. The drunk man swung at him, but he leaned back out of the way of the punch and kicked him under the ribs, knocking the wind straight out of him. His foot was back on the ground before the man even processed he'd been kicked, and he fell past Velphyn onto his face.

"Hey! No fighting before the competition starts!" Two guardsmen rushed over, spears lowered toward Velphyn. He put his hands up.

"I apologize for my friend; he was drunk. He became angry, so I took a step back he must've fell."

"Well, I apologize for your friend, too. He's out."

"What, out of the tournament?" Velphyn feigned anger.

"Yes. You keep on your arguing, you'll be out, too."

Velphyn stepped back with his hands up again. "Okay, take him away."

"Thank you for your cooperation." The guards planted their spear butts in the ground and hauled the knight out of the fort.

"FIRST TO JOUST: SIR RODNEY ON KILLIAN AND SIR GERALD ON VERONICA! TO YOUR PLACES!" The voice sounded from a massive golden bell set next to the king's herald, high at the top of the benches. Two knights strolled from their tents, their steeds brought to either end of the jousting arena. The knights mounted, and the herald yelled again. "LET THE TOURNAMENT BEGIN!" The knights kicked their steeds into a gallop, and their lances lowered towards each other. As the steeds closed in, Gerald knocked Rodney's lance out of the way and smashed it against his chest. Rodney flew from the saddle into the dust.

"GERALD WINS!" the herald said. "RODNEY IS DISMISSED!"

This went on for a while. Gerald was challenged, and defeated, and the rest of the men simply took their assigned opponents and it went one way or the other. Velphyn counted the men, and saw that there were still fifty-six men in the tournament. He was last, pitted up against some old folk hero called Lancelot. He looked the part of an old folk hero, his steely gray beard prickling from under his helmet. Velphyn walked onto the dirt strip, and saw an exchange between the herald and a stable boy. The herald shouted something at the boy, and he shrugged and motioned to Velphyn aggressively. Finally, the herald sighed and dropped his shoulders, then got back to the speaker horn. "LASTLY FOR THE JOUST: LANCELOT ON SECACE, VELEN ON FOOT!" Murmurs rippled throughout the crowd, and Velphyn joined in.

"It's Velphyn. Velen is a town."

"LET THE FINAL ROUND BEGIN!"

Secace galloped forward, and Lancelot lowered his lance toward Velphyn. He manipulated the winds, and made Lancelot's lance dip and sway with his horse's movement. Truth be told, the man probably would've skewered Velphyn without the help of the wind, but now he looked panicked and confused. As his lance bobbed its way toward Velphyn, the half-elf started to run forward. He feigned a desperate dodge so nobody saw the cheat -magic was strictly forbidden at this tournament- and made Lancelot's lance graze his ribs. The man wheeled back around at the end of the arena, and he rode back at Velphyn. For his part, Velphyn jumped to the fence, then used it as a springboard. As Lancelot neared, Velphyn dropped onto him and stabbed him from the saddle with his staff.

"VELEN WINS, LANCELOT IS DISMISSED!" The herald yelled. There were a few scattered applause, but nobody cheered. "NEXT EVENT: UNARMED FIGHTS! PLEASE LEAVE ALL WEAPONS AND PROTECTIVE DEVICES IN YOUR TENT!" All the knights and other competitors strolled from their tents, wearing their trousers and riding boots only. All had tied their hair and beards, and had nothing to obstruct them. Once again, Velphyn was last. By the time he fought, there were twenty-eight men. He was put against a man called Karl, who looked as strong as anyone Velphyn had ever seen. He squared up at the edge of one of the wooden circles, and Velphyn strolled calmly to the opposite side. "BEGIN!" the herald said, and Karl instantly threw a punch. This was Velphyn's strong suit. He ducked under the punch, and barraged Karl's ribs with hits of his own. Karl tried to hit him with his knee, but Velphyn had already circled behind and swept the opposite leg. Karl fell to the ground, and couldn't even get up before Velphyn threw his knee around his throat, dropped him to the ground, and broke his neck.

"VELEN-" the herald stopped as a hooded figure approached him. They had a quick exchange, and the herald nodded. "VELPHYN WINS, KARL BAKER IS DISMISSED!"

Velphyn nodded at the mysterious figure, but they were already gone.

"LET US MOVE ON! TWENTY EIGHT MEN REMAINING, FOR THE RACE! PLACES, GENTS!" The competitors lined up on the front of the course, and the herald shouted. "GO!" The competitors took off, and immediately one tripped and fell into a mud pit. He tried to stand up and was skewered by a dangling spear. Many chose to take the high road, climbing ladders and poles to get to the platforms. Velphyn, still at the start mark, examined his best course of action while also pushing some men from the platforms with the wind. Finally, he saw the best route. He ran straight forward, between two platforms. Already, without having to crawl or climb, he was ahead of everyone. When he reached the ends of the platforms, he jumped to one of the supporting columns, then the other and back until he reached the top, where he kicked someone off and jumped to a rope. As he swung, he saw three people pass him on the ground. It was no matter, he just had to finish before the last ten. He landed on the next platform and ran, finally reaching the end. He dropped onto some of the wheels, ran across them easily, and finished sixth. Only a few moments more, and the herald shouted again. He listed the ten names of those eliminated, and they filed, disappointed, from the grounds.

"PREPARE, COMPETITORS, FOR THE FOURTH EVENT!" The race finishers wandered back to their tents, and Velphyn back to his staff. As he approached it, he heard a voice carried on the wind from behind the line of tents. He snuck back and observed.

"The hardening spell worked on your hands, but I don't know if you can use it for your armor, William."

Velphyn saw a bald man in a long flowing robe talking to an already fully-armed knight.

"Hmm. I suppose... just do what you can. The chestplate and the shield are the most important, and whatever else you can do."

"Understood," the man said. There was a flare of orange, and William's armor glowed the same color momentarily. "Ah," the wizard said. "It worked for the full suit. Kill them. You need that seat."

Velphyn almost stepped in, but he knew that he couldn't do anything. They were only bettering William's equipment; Velphyn had actively and intentionally eliminated men from the competition. He couldn't rightly do anything. He stepped in anyways, raising his hands when they turned on him with weapons raised.

"I mean you no harm."

"You've caught us cheating," William said. "You could get us dismissed."

"No," Velphyn chuckled. "In doing so I'd be dismissed myself. I've used magic this time 'round."

"Ah. So you understand."

"Of course," Velphyn said. "And why're you in it? The land, or the seat?"

"I'd like the seat," William said.

"Ah. And the same. Good luck," Velphyn said. "Though I suppose you won't need it."

"Good luck to you as well, monk." William nodded. Velphyn walked away, remarking to himself the strange nature of what people bond over. Cheating, death, money. He picked up his staff, and was surprised to hear he would be fighting first in the second arena. "VELPHYN, VERSUS SIR WILLIAM!" Velphyn's head dropped. His wooden staff would do no good against magically hardened steel. "NO, NO! MISTAKE! VELPHYN VERSUS SIR BALDRIC!" Velphyn's chin came back up. He stepped into the wooden circle across from Baldric, who bore chainmail armor and an axe. He charged forward with a roar, and Velphyn deflected the axe upward and kicked him back. The next charge was dodged, and Velphyn jabbed his staff into Baldric's bearded face. He stumbled back, dropping his axe and throwing his hands to his bleeding nose. Velphyn dropped the staff and broke Baldric's knees, then locked the staff around Baldric's throat and his forearm behind his head.

"Yield?" Velphyn asked, wishing to take pity.

"Never!" Baldric spat, and tried to fight the lock. Velphyn shook his head in disappointment and turned, allowing Baldric's head to turn with him, almost all the way around, with a sickening crack.

"VELPHYN WINS! BALDRIC IS DISMISSED!" Baldric's body was taken out of the ring, and Velphyn left as well. He meditated on his staff until he heard the words he'd been waiting for.

"NINE MEN REMAINING FOR THE FINAL EVENT! PLACES!"

The king whispered to his herald as Velphyn looked up at them.

"AH-HA! BY ORDER OF THE KING, ALL MAGIC IS PERMITTED FOR THE FINAL EVENT, THIS YEAR ONLY!" Velphyn smiled and climbed back down from his staff. He picked it up and moved forward, taking his place in the final square. The other eight were in their places as well, and Velphyn saw William in the corner. He was talking to the wizard, and now his armor glowed freely. Velphyn redirected the wind so he could hear the conversation, but he heard only the last bit of it.

"-taxes. With that money, we could have all the land, all the power in the world."

The wizard smiled, and William nodded to Velphyn. Velphyn frowned, now understanding that Williams reason for cheating was not a just one. He wanted only power and riches. Velphyn was now determined to kill him and leave nothing for the crows.

"FIGHT!" the herald said, and instantly Velphyn heard roars and battle cries. William only smiled and waited, as was the wise thing to do. Finally, the large group of fighters was whittled down to three. Three circling in the middle, and two still in the corners, Velphyn and William. Velphyn was done waiting, though. He began to spin his staff, and it caught the wind and threw it behind him. After only seconds, he felt the massive tornado behind him. He turned and took the point of this on the end of his staff, and hurled it into the center of the ring. The three in the middle flew out to the sides, bones shattering on impact. As the tornado neared William, though, Velphyn dispelled it. He wanted a fair fight.

"DOWN TO TWO COMPETITORS NOW, CITIZENS! VELPHYN MONK, AND SIR WILLIAM! BOTH SEEM TO BE EXPLOITING THE MAGIC THEY WERE GIVEN, AND IT IS TO BE THE FIGHT OF THE DECADE!"

Velphyn swung and spun madly, his staff never halting. Even if he missed, the staff threw wind at William. Finally, Velphyn stepped back, spun his staff, and hurled wind at William.

He didn't move.

Velphyn's attacks persisted, until he breathed heavily, which he hadn't done in years. Already he'd taken several cuts, but hadn't made more than two dents in William's armor. Even so, he hadn't hurt the man himself yet. He downcast his eyes, ashamed he had failed the elves, and knelt. "Yield." he said quietly.

"What?" William asked.

"YIELD!" Velphyn shouted.

"IT SEEMS WE HAVE A WINNER!" the herald announced. "SIR WILLIAM, FOR THE SEAT ON THE KING'S ADVISORY COUNCIL!"

Velphyn stood and reached out a hand. "Congratulations," he said coldly.

William refused to shake his hand, instead spitting, "Thanks, monk," and sauntering from the field. Now Velphyn would never be able to get justice, not with this man trying to grab power. William had to die.


End file.
